With the amount of time I lose every day to looking at places to live in Austin, I could have written another novel in the past two weeks. It’s too early, obviously- we are not in a position to sign a lease on a place for June and leave it empty for three months or anything. Some pre-lease options are available, but I doubt we’re going to go that route, as it isn’t terribly efficient. No, I’m not looking for a place to live because I’m trying to accomplish anything. I’m doing it because, when you live in a box like this one, fantasizing about the amount of space you might have when you live in Texas is like pornography.

This is where we live now. Since Kat’s placement is only two days a week until June, we’re both home an average of four days a week. Accordingly, we hate one another. I’m not really at liberty to quote Virginia Wolfe all that freely, but I think I get what she was talking about with a room of one’s own.

The sky’s curious over this quixotic little island today; out the bedroom window (which is huge- the giant windows are this apartment’s best feature) there are grey clouds that threaten- well, drizzle, not real rain. From the other room, the sky’s blue and one could almost believe that it’s springtime. It’ll switch in a few minutes, I’m sure, and I’ll go sit on the bed and browse the chronicle’s housing listings and Austin Craigslist from in there. It needn’t be so bad. By the time August 23 rolls around, in 95 days (2,280 hours), I expect I’ll be quite attached to this place, will find myself utterly perplexed when trying to figure out what a person is supposed to do with the other room of a place when they’re not in it. In the meantime, there’s a house on North Guadalupe with 1,300 square feet just a bit outside our price range, that’s available August 15th. Maybe I’ll drop them an email and see if they’re willing to come down any. Do they do that in America? I can’t even remember anymore.